The nineteenth century has been characterized by a deep and abiding interest in popular education. One hundred years ago there were many close observers who strongly opposed all attempts to provide schools for the masses, lest they should be educated above their station in life. This feeling was particularly strong in conservative countries like England. It led the Duke of Wellington to remark to one who was explaining to him the work of Joseph Lancaster, “Take care what you are about; for unless you base all this on religion, you are only making so many clever devils.” So careful a critic as Alexis de Tocqueville, after his visit to the United States in 1831, wrote to Jared Sparks: “Are the effects of education uniformly good? Does not a man who obtains an education above his social condition become an unquiet citizen?” The first triumph of the nineteenth century was the conquest of this fear; and there is to-day a general belief that it is the duty of each community to provide a well-developed school system, that each child may have an opportunity for making the best and highest use of his powers and capabilities.

Perhaps no single element has contributed more to this change in the popular attitude towards schools than the writings of the great group of thinkers who, with lofty ideals and keen acumen, have devoted themselves to the study and discussion of educational questions. Germany has been foremost in its contributions to educational literature. Foremost in time as in influence is John Henry Pestalozzi (1746–1827). Although endowed with an “unrivaled incapacity for government,” Pestalozzi has yet become an inspiration to modern pedagogy, because of his love for teaching and the tender sympathy of his nature. After various educational experiments, he opened, in 1805, a school at Yverdun, on the Lake of Neufchatel, which soon won for him a European reputation, and became a centre of interest to educators from all Europe. The Emperor of Russia gave him a personal proof of his favor, and Fichte, the great German philosopher, declared that he saw in Pestalozzi and his labors the dawning of a new era for humanity. In his writings and in his teaching Pestalozzi emphasized the importance of the home in education; he asserted the truth that all instruction is based on observation: “Neither books nor any product of human skill, but life itself, yields the basis for all education;” and in a general way he aimed to develop the child through his own personal activity, rather than to furnish him with useful facts.

The most eminent of Pestalozzi’s disciples was Friedrich Froebel (1782–1852), the founder of the kindergarten. After a varied career as a forester, student at Jena, etc., Froebel went to Yverdun in 1808, and for two years was a co-laborer with Pestalozzi. The impulse which he here received never lost its force. It brought him to consider the problems of elementary education, and finally led, in 1837, to his establishment of the first kindergarten at Blankenburg in Thuringia. His idea may be well expressed in his own words,—“I can convert children’s activities, energies, amusements, occupations, all that goes by the name of play, into instruments for my purpose, and therefore transform play into work. This work will be education in the true sense of the term.” His great theory was idealistic—he believed in the unity of the universe, in the essential harmony of the world. It was the duty of the teacher to fit the child for his place in human society. This could be best done if the child was taken at a very early age and prepared for life in an ordinary school. The kindergarten, or child-garden, is thus a school where a child learns social life, where his play is systematized and his activities are directed. The average course of study takes hold of the child when he is six years of age; the kindergarten usually fills in the two preceding years. As an educational institution, the kindergarten has met with little public support in Europe, although in Paris there are a number of “maternal schools,” which correspond closely to Froebel’s plan. In the United States, Miss Elizabeth Peabody became the first apostle of the movement. The idea of caring for the children below the regular school-age won instant favor, and in a number of large cities kindergartens were opened under private auspices. As their success became clearer and more positive, they were taken under the control of the public. In 1896–97, the report of the United States Commissioner of Education shows that there were 1077 kindergartens in the United States connected with the public-school systems of cities having more than 4000 population, with an enrollment of 81,916 pupils. The International Kindergarten Union, formed for the purpose of “gathering and disseminating knowledge of the kindergarten movement throughout the world,” has aided greatly in stimulating an intelligent interest in Froebel’s ideals in America.

None of the great German philosophers has been honored with a more loyal cult than Johann Friedrich Herbart (1775–1841), who directed general attention to the necessity of studying the principles of education. In his writings and lectures while professor at the University of Göttingen, Herbart started an inquiry into the theoretical basis of instruction. He found the final aim of all education to centre in the formation of moral character, while the keystone of instruction is interest. “The final aim of instruction is morality. But the nearer aim which instruction in particular must see before itself in order to reach the final one, is many-sidedness of interest.” Herbart’s influence in arousing and directing thought has been most felt in Germany, but in America his name has been taken by one of the most active educational associations, “The National Herbart Society.”

Next to Germany in its list of great educational thinkers must come England. At the beginning of this century there were no “public schools” in England, in the American sense of the term. The great preparatory schools,—Eton, Rugby, Harrow, Winchester, etc.,—although called “public” by the English, were in reality endowed boarding-schools, where as a rule only the children of the rich could be found. General education was cared for by the village schools under the direction of the vicar of the parish, and usually presided over by elderly dames with varied degrees of attainments. At the end of the eighteenth century, the work of Andrew Bell and Joseph Lancaster began to arouse some interest. Working independently, the one in India and the other in London, both developed the same method of providing general instruction at a minimum of cost, by using the more advanced pupils to instruct the beginners. “By the aid of monitors,” said Lancaster, “one master can teach a thousand boys.” In 1798, Lancaster opened the first English school of this kind in Southwark, London, placing this inscription over the door: “All that will may send their children and have them educated freely, and those that do not wish to have education for nothing may pay for it, if they please.” In 1808, the Royal Lancasterian Society was organized, to agitate for more schools; and although its name was changed, in 1814, to British and Foreign School Society, its work has continued down to the present time. In 1818, Lancaster came to America, and was at once placed in general charge of the public schools of Philadelphia. He was made principal of a model school for training teachers, which is believed to have been the first attempt at a normal school in America. After extensive agitation in New York, in Canada, where in 1829 he received an appropriation from the legislature to enable him to start his monitorial schools, and even in South America, Lancaster’s work was done.

Probably the greatest teacher of the century in England was Thomas Arnold, whose character will long live in literature through the loving portraiture of his pupils. While contributing little of importance to the science of pedagogy, he was yet able to work a revolution in the general conception of teacher and pupil, and their relations to each other. He insisted that his teachers must continue their studies after they had secured positions, and so raised professional ideals. “The pupil,” said he, “must drink from the running fountain, and not from the stagnant pool.” His sympathy gave him rare power to mould the character of boys. He trusted his boys and they became worthy of it. “It is a shame to tell Arnold a lie! He always believes one,”—was the common saying. As a consequence, there went out from Rugby School from 1827 to 1842, the years of Arnold’s headmastership, a group of clean, healthy, whole-souled boys, well fitted to become leaders in English life.

Many contributions have been made to the literature of pedagogy during the century, but there is none that has attracted more attention or stimulated more earnest discussion than Herbert Spencer’s “Education.” In the first chapter of his book, Spencer asks the question which aroused the educational world,—“What knowledge is of most worth?” It at once directed inquiry into the very heart of educational theory. The course of study, the order in which subjects should be considered, the time to be given to each,—all these problems were vitally concerned with the answer to this question. Mr. Spencer’s solution won instant favor: “How to live,” said he, “that is the essential question for us.... And this, being the great thing needful for us to learn, is, by consequence, the great thing which education has to teach. To prepare us for complete living is the function which education has to discharge.” This point of view led to the accenting of useful and practical subjects. The human body should be studied,—this is necessary to fulfill the first law of nature, self-preservation. The natural sciences should be an essential part of education: this is necessary for our acquaintance with the world in which we must live and work. History and social science should be studied: that each one may become fully in touch with the society in which he forms a unit. Naturally, little time would be left for branches that were æsthetic or cultural, and so Spencer would have the student give but his surplus time to these. But the important thing was that he should know himself, his world, and his society, so that he would be fitted to do his work in the most complete way. His practical influence upon education is best seen in the great increase of appreciation for the natural sciences, which has led to the introduction of nature observation and study, even in the most elementary schools.

In America there have been important contributions to educational theory during the century. There has been a perfect flood of educational books, pamphlets, and periodicals, whose merit is so great as to extort even reluctant admiration from foreign critics. While there has been much unevenness in quality, yet Americans have no reason to feel ashamed of their contribution to pedagogical literature. The best work has been done in the discussion of specific questions, rather than in an elaboration of general ideals. Administration, with its manifold problems, has appealed strongly to the American genius; and consequently the greatest names of the century are those of men who have devoted themselves to some practical work, the ideals and details of which they have thoroughly mastered, and so have left enduring monuments of their lives’ work.

The great achievement of the century in the United States has been the establishment of a system of free and public schools. Like most of the nation’s intellectual impulses, this spirit seems to have come from New England. There, the democratic ideals of the people led to an early appreciation of the necessity for universal education. There can be little doubt that it was from the Puritan settlements in Massachusetts that the original impulse toward universal education came. Thus, in 1647, the Colonial Assembly required that each town containing one hundred families should establish a grammar school to prepare youths for the university. During colonial times more and more schools were steadily established. But the movement, which was zealously supported in New England and encouraged in the Middle States, especially by the Friends, met with opposition in the South, where education was considered a family duty, and not within the province of the State. Whatever, therefore, was accomplished in an educational line prior to the Revolution depended upon the spirit of the individual colonies; consequently, there was the widest possible divergence in the policies and methods of different localities.

But as soon as the Revolution had been accomplished, and independence had become a fact, a renewed interest in general education was evident. It is exceedingly interesting to watch the development of the point of view that free schools were a necessity for the existence of the republic, and hence must be established by the State. The early fathers of the nation were not slow to recognize this. In the words of Franklin, “A Bible and newspaper in every house, a good school in every district—all studied and appreciated as they merit—are the principal support of virtue, morality, and civil liberty.” “In proportion as the structure of a government gives force to public opinion,” said Washington, “it is necessary that public opinion should be enlightened.” And Jefferson, with his broad philosophical appreciation of democracy, started the battle against the ideas of Governor Berkeley, of Virginia, when, in 1779, he introduced into the General Assembly of Virginia a bill providing for the establishment of schools “for the free training of all free children, male and female.”

The half century from 1790 to 1840 is the period of the battle for free public schools. It was a hard fight, complicated in many States by local questions and conditions that rendered success almost hopeless. Some opposed from the old point of view that education was an individual matter,—each should get for himself just so much as was possible. Others raised the objection of cost,—if taxation was proposed, was it right to take money from one group to educate the children of another? Religious disputes hindered progress,—many of the denominations had founded sectarian schools, and were unwilling to see them replaced by public schools, where no creed would be taught. Especially, in some States, as in Pennsylvania, where Swede, German, Scotch, Irish, and English lived side by side, did the race problem enter as a perplexing element. Should any language other than English be taught? What respect should be given to the traditions and customs of each race-group? Moreover, when the conservatism began to yield to progress, it compromised with great reluctance. At first, provision was made whereby the children of the poor should have their school fees paid by the State. Then public schools were started exclusively for the poor, which were branded with the stigma of “pauper schools.” But these difficulties only served to increase the ardor of the public-school advocates, and at length their success was complete.

Some episodes of the struggle deserve special mention. Horace Mann (1796–1859) has been called the St. Paul of education in America. In 1837, the State Board of Education was created in Massachusetts, and Horace Mann was appointed its first secretary. For twelve years he labored with unflagging energy to build up the public interest in education. By speech and by pen, he awakened in his State an appreciation of the value of the public school system that has never since decayed. He established on an enduring basis the business side of education in the State, by systematizing the school funds. The personal sacrifice was enormous. He addressed public meetings all over the country. When he found that no arrangements had been made at Pittsfield to prepare the schoolhouse for his meeting, Horace Mann and Governor Briggs themselves swept out the building and set it in order. One of his first interests was the provision of good teachers. In order to spur the Assembly to its duty, he begged from his friends the sum of $10,000, which, with an equal sum appropriated from the state treasury, was used in the establishment of the Massachusetts normal schools at Lexington and Barre (1839). Outside of his administrative work, his fame must rest upon his stanch advocacy of the principle of “the obligation of a State, on the great principles of natural law and natural equity, to maintain free schools for the universal education of its people.”

In Pennsylvania, the hero of the battle for free schools was Thaddeus Stevens. In 1834, a law was passed by the legislature establishing a state system, and abolishing the distinction between rich and poor which had been noticed in the old pauper schools. Two years later, a determined effort was made by the combined forces of ignorance, prejudice, and caste, to repeal the act of 1834. Nothing but the stanchness of Governor Wolf and the power exerted by the eloquence of the “Old Commoner” saved free schools for the Keystone State, and so established the system which to-day receives more direct aid from the state treasury than in any other State of the Union.

West of the Alleghanies, the interest in popular education has always been deep and thorough. Settled in large measure by the steady sons of New England, education found there a most fertile soil. Moreover, by the wise foresight of Congress, provision was made for school funds in a most satisfactory way. The Ordinance of 1787, which organized the territory north of the Ohio River, contained a provision that one section of land in each township should be devoted to public education. If this grant, which was originally suggested by Jefferson, had been carefully watched, it would have been sufficient to endow the public schools of many Western States. The national government gave to education in the first hundred years of its history nearly eighty million acres of public lands, but these grants were not always conserved with sufficient care. In 1896–97 the total revenue of the school systems in the United States was $188,641,243, of which less than five per cent was from state school funds or rent of school lands, while over eighty-six per cent was derived from state and local taxation.

Some little conception of the immensity of the common-school system in the United States may be obtained from the following statistics, taken from the Report of the Commissioner of Education for 1896–97.

COMMON-SCHOOL STATISTICS OF THE UNITED STATES
(NOT INCLUDING PRIVATE SCHOOLS, COLLEGES, OR UNIVERSITIES).

To these grand totals must be added the million and more in attendance at private schools throughout the country, and the rapidly increasing number (now 217,763) of those who receive higher instruction, in universities and professional and normal schools. This makes for the United States a grand total of 16,255,093 pupils and students of all grades in public and private schools. The growth during the last generation has been most marked. The statistical table gives an opportunity for comparison with the year 1870–71,—the span of a generation,—and it has been estimated that within this period the average total amount of schooling has increased from 2.91 years to 4.28 years. In other words, the amount of education which each one felt able to afford has increased almost one half. Such is the magnificent result which has grown out of the isolated village schools of our New England ancestors, fostered by the democratic desire for intelligence found all over the country.

Equally great has been the change in the spirit of the school. In the early days the schools were very crude. Population was scattered, and since the children could not go as far to school as their elders did to church, the number of schoolhouses was very great. They were usually put up by the people of the neighborhood with little pretense at adornment. The average schoolhouse was located either at a fork in the roads or on an elevation, where it shared, with the church, the honor of conspicuousness. We give a picture of Old Sleepy Hollow Schoolhouse, made famous by Washington Irving’s elaborate description of Ichabod Crane, its ruler in the colonial days. But a structure of this kind is luxurious compared with the hardships of more sparsely settled regions. From Wickersham’s “History of Education in Pennsylvania” the following description is culled: “The pioneer schoolhouse was built of logs, sixteen by twenty feet, seven feet to the ceiling, daubed with mud inside and out, a mud and stick chimney in the north end, and in the west a log was left out, and the opening covered with oiled paper to admit light; holes were bored in the logs and pins driven in, on which to nail a long board for a writing-table, and slabs with legs answered for seats. The early schoolhouses were generally situated near the roadside or cross-roads, being without playground, shade-trees, or apparatus.”

Here the master kept his country school for a term of from six to twelve weeks. In the winter time the pupils were almost frozen, and there were other dangers which the hardy lad of those days had to encounter. Nevertheless, rude, uncomfortable, and inadequate as they were, it was here that our forefathers obtained their scanty schooling. The three R’s, Readin’, Ritin’, and ‘Rithmetic, formed the basis of the course of study. Methods were very simple. Much of the early instruction was religious in its trend, and the child was expected to use books which would teach moral lessons. Church books, containing creeds and hymns and catechisms, might be used in the school for study. Then there were the primers or books to teach the A B C. The famous “New England Primer” was published in the latter part of the seventeenth century. Later editions contained rhyming couplets upon each letter of the alphabet, illustrated with such imagery as the art would allow. A page from the “Child’s Guide,” published in London in 1762, is shown on page 527. Its verses were easily memorized, and sometimes gave a basis for a spelling lesson. There were no graded readers until this century.

Writing in some neighborhoods was taught only to boys, on the general ground that it was an unnecessary accomplishment for the sex which never engaged in business. Ink was home-made from bruised nutgalls placed in a bottle with water and rusty nails. The writing was done with a quill pen, and one of the foremost duties of the old-fashioned pedagogue was to make and mend pens.

The master set the copies by writing a lesson which was to be imitated by the pupils. There was no set style, but usually the teacher wrote a bold, legible hand which in time was acquired with a fair degree of success. Arithmetic was taught without text-books. Sums were given out by the master and worked out on paper on the desk. Nothing but the more rudimentary principles was taught, and the higher branches of algebra and geometry were unknown in the public schools of this time. Spelling was one of the favorite studies. It gave free scope for the memory, and provided an opportunity for one of those public exhibitions in which Americans have always delighted. “Spelling on the book,” says Wickersham, “was taught by attempting to lead the pupil to give the names of syllables and words by naming the letters of which they are composed. The first lesson consisted of combinations of a word with one or more consonants, arranged so that a kind of rhyme aided the pronunciation, as ab, eb, ib, etc.” ... “Spelling off the book” consisted in naming the letters of words pronounced for that purpose. But the chief enjoyment of spelling came from the old-fashioned contests, or “spelling-bees.” Sometimes it was to discover the best speller of the district; again, one district might be pitted against another. The spellers would be arranged in two rows. The first word would be given to the first speller on one side, the next to his rival, the third to his comrade, and so on. If one missed a word, he at once took his seat; presently the contest would narrow down to a few, until at last all would have missed save one, and he or she became the champion speller.

The teachers of the time formed a group of varied attainments, and oftentimes with little professional enthusiasm. Teaching has always suffered from the fact that a great number of young men enter upon its practice, who use it merely as a stepping-stone to some other and more attractive pursuit. The number of those who have taught a few terms, in order to save money for a college, law, or medical course is legion; and this fact has laid the profession open to the reproach that only the unambitious and the unalert follow it permanently. In the early days of our country’s history, this stigma was intensified by the number of “itinerant schoolmasters,” men who wandered from place to place, teaching a term in one village and then moving to the next,—“odd in dress, eccentric in manners, and oftentimes intemperate.” Their work was simple in its nature; they were to keep order and to teach the rudiments. Their methods in the latter have already been referred to; for the former, they relied, almost universally, upon the unsparing use of the rod.

The wisdom of the practice of flogging has only been questioned in the latter part of this century. In the early days it was the one recognized punishment, even for students whose maturity and attainments would suggest an appeal to reason. With this mode of punishment was associated a more or less ingenious series of devices, such as the dunce-block, the fools’ cap, etc., all calculated to bring the offender into ridicule, but utterly destructive of that good feeling between teacher and pupil, upon which so much stress is laid to-day.

In the course of the century the old-fashioned school has either passed away or else has been modified materially. To-day it is to be found in only sparsely settled districts, while in the cities and in the more cultured neighborhoods one finds carefully planned systems of education that show the fruits of the study and direction of some of the keenest minds that our country has produced. While it is impossible in the space of a single chapter to refer to all the changes, yet some of the most important will be considered.

Foremost in real importance come the changes in the course of study—in the list of subjects which the well-educated young man may be expected to have mastered. One hundred years ago the average child would have gone to the village school for the three “R’s” with, maybe, a little training in geography and parsing. If a college career was open to him, he would then go to an academy, usually a private institution, for his introduction to the classics, Latin and Greek, and to algebra. While instruction was given in other branches, yet these formed the backbone of the course. The average age of admission to college was considerably less than it is at present. In the ordinary college there was a required course of study, in which Latin, Greek, and higher mathematics played the most conspicuous part. The scientific studies were counted less educative, and were usually rather poorly taught. Literature, history, and philosophy were sometimes included in the college curriculum, and in many ways the course of study was modeled to suit the preferences and abilities of the different teachers. Nowadays this is all changed. In the United States a graded school system has been created, that is, a complete course of study has been worked out, whereby certain studies are specified as suited for each year of the school life. This is not the same for all parts of the country, for the American school system, unlike that in Germany and France, is not national in its organization. The authority over the schools is vested in the individual States, and as a consequence each State shows peculiarities in course of study, in laws, and in methods that make the whole seem chaotic. There is, however, more similarity than would appear at first sight, and while what is asserted in general may not be true of each particular locality, yet certain lines of development may be clearly seen.

The schools of the country may be divided into three groups,—elementary, secondary, and higher. The elementary schools are built in some places upon the kindergarten; they are ordinarily supposed to occupy the first eight or nine years of the child’s school-life, and are classified as primary and grammar schools. During that period the pupil studies a great variety of branches,—language studies, reading, writing, spelling, and grammar; arithmetic, geography, United States history, civil government, nature study, physiology and hygiene, physical culture, vocal music, drawing and manual training in boys’ schools, or sewing and cooking in girls’ schools. Several of these subjects have been introduced only within the last few years. The tendency toward enriching the curriculum is quite manifest to-day; it is based upon the fact that by far the larger part of the pupils never enter the higher schools, since their education is ended with the elementary schools, therefore it is thought desirable to bring some of the higher subjects into the grammar school.

With the completion of this elementary course the pupil passes into the secondary school. Earlier in the century this was ordinarily a private academy, either conducted for profit or by a religious society. In exceptional cases these schools were public; but as the benefits of higher education were recognized more completely, the popularity of these schools increased enormously. Public high schools were opened, and success led to their rapid multiplication, until to-day they form one of the most useful elements in our system, sending forth year by year leaders of thought and moulders of opinion. Their course of study has been the subject of much controversy. The old academy prepared for the college; the new high school prepares for life; consequently there ensued a breach between the high school and the college which only now is being closed. The ordinary high-school course is four years, and includes languages, Latin, French, German, and sometimes Greek and Spanish; mathematics, algebra, geometry, trigonometry, and sometimes analytical geometry and even astronomy; history, literature, physical geography, physics, chemistry, biology, geology, drawing, and occasionally political economy, ethics, and civics. It will be noticed that subjects formerly taught only in the colleges have been brought into the high-school curriculum. This again is due to the “enriching process,” and is illustrative of the fact that for so many of its students the high school is the crown of their education. The stress laid upon nature study and the physical sciences, and the introduction of modern languages, are among the most significant changes of the century, as indicative of the desire to bring the schools in touch with the conditions of practical life.

From the high school or academy, the student passes to the college or university. Within the last decade an attempt has been made to give a definite pedagogical content to each of these terms. A college is an institution where the liberal arts are studied for purposes of general culture. A university, on the other hand, prepares a man for one definite line of work, either professional or technical. Both confer degrees upon those who have successfully completed their courses, but those of the university (Ph. D., A. M., M. D., etc.) are of a higher type than those of the college (A. B., Ph. B.). There were twenty-four colleges in the United States in 1800. The six oldest were: Harvard, established in 1687; William and Mary, 1693; Yale, 1701; Princeton, 1746; University of Pennsylvania, 1749; Columbia, 1754.

In 1896 there were 472 colleges and universities in the United States, representing most of the States and Territories in the Union. Many of these are entirely public, being supported by State appropriations; some receive State aid; others were originally founded by private endowment, but have become public in their management; some are entirely private in both endowment and control. Most are non-sectarian, but many require worship in accordance with the services of some denomination. In general, all recognize their lofty function in society and are anxious to discharge it properly. Originally aristocratic in many ways,—prior to the Revolution some colleges classifying their students in the catalogue according to the social rank of their families,—they have become among the most popular institutions in the educational world, largely because of the high worth of their graduates.

Universities, in the scientific sense of the term, did not exist prior to 1800, except in the few medical and law schools and theological seminaries. The American conception of the university has been very largely moulded by the experience of Germany. The college does not exist as a degree-conferring institution in Germany, but its place is taken very largely by the Gymnasium. The German system comprises three grades of schools: 1. Volkschulen (primary schools), where the elementary instruction is given. 2. Gymnasia and Real-Schulen (secondary schools), which provide a nine years’ course for the pupil, usually covering the period from ten to nineteen years. The aim of the first is to prepare for the university, while the Real-Schulen fit their students for the ordinary business callings of life. 3. Universities, in which the studies are arranged in four faculties; theology, law, medicine, and philosophy. On account of the thoroughness of the German teaching, many American students have gone to Germany for their university course. A sincere effort has been made in America to develop universities according to the German concept, with its detailed study of particular topics based on a thorough general education. Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, opened in 1876, has done most along these lines.

During the century a determined and successful effort has been made to break down the old-fashioned college curriculum, with its absolute and unvarying requirements from every student. Harvard University, under the leadership of its brilliant executives, Thomas Hill and especially Charles W. Eliot, has led the way by providing a series of elective courses from which the student might select a sufficient number to make up his roster. This has given scope to the exercise of a freedom of choice that has been most wholesome in its effects upon both the scholar and university. It has led to the neglect of the poor courses and to the encouragement of the good ones; and it has promoted individuality in the different students to a marked degree. The success of the elective system, and the development of post-graduate courses in the university, taken in connection with the very great interest in all the phases of higher education, constitute the chief lines of advance during the century.

It is evident, then, that the student of to-day has a tremendous advantage over his fellow of one hundred years ago in the subjects which he may study. The courses have been enriched, instruction has been systematized, new subjects, more closely allied with popular needs, have been developed. But a gain which transcends in importance even these alterations in the curriculum, is that which has come through the teacher.

We have seen that the teacher of our forefathers was a man of doubtful attainments and uncertain character, and while there were golden exceptions to any general criticism, yet it is beyond question that as a class the teachership was not well esteemed. As a rule, there was no stable salary,—the teachers “boarded around” at the homes of their pupils or received payment in produce from the farmers. At the school he was janitor as well as educator. Outside of New England, there was little intelligent supervision of his efforts, and, on the whole, very little effective home coöperation. Within the century, however, there has been a marked increase in the esteem in which the teacher is held, and in the popular appreciation of his work. Moreover, to-day, the teacher better deserves esteem and respect. While the profession still contains a vast floating element who look forward to a future in other lines of work, yet on the whole its members possess a keen interest in their work and a desire for professional improvement. A most powerful means toward this end has been found in the various teachers’ organizations. The Institute, with its annual assembly of all teachers within a given district, who for two or three days discuss school questions and listen to lectures upon educational topics, has been introduced throughout the whole country with great success. The teachers in the various States have organized State associations, and there are innumerable voluntary organizations, whose meetings give each teacher an opportunity for that free contact with others of his own kind that is so helpful and so suggestive.

The oldest educational association in America, maybe in the world, is the American Institute of Instruction, organized in 1830. During its nearly seventy years of life it has been a vast inspiration to thousands of teachers. It has drawn its support chiefly from the New England States and recently from Canada, but its influence is widespread. Annual meetings have been held regularly. Among its leading spirits, it has numbered such men as W. E. Sheldon, Francis Wayland, Henry Barnard, etc. Out of the success of the various State associations, and perhaps suggested by the necessity for more general action, grew the National Educational Association, founded in 1857, with the objects “to elevate the character and advance the interest of the profession of teaching and to promote the cause of popular education in the United States.” Its first president was Zalmon Richards, and his successors have been the foremost educators of the country, including James P. Wickersham, Emerson E. White, William T. Harris, Albert G. Lane, Nicholas Murray Butler, Charles R. Skinner, etc. Its membership has grown from 80 in 1857 to 10,654 (1898), and it has been estimated that some of its conventions have brought twenty-five thousand people in their train. In spirit it is thoroughly national, meeting in every section of the country in turn, so helping to promote uniformity in school ideas. As the Association grew larger, and its work became more complicated, its organization became involved. To-day it consists of seventeen departments, each of which devotes itself to one phase of education, usually reporting at the annual meeting.

Since 1892 the National Educational Association (N. E. A., as it is popularly called) has appointed three committees to investigate special lines of work in separate departments of the school system. The Committee of Ten, whose chairman, Charles W. Eliot, was the distinguished President of Harvard University, submitted a most useful report in 1893 on Secondary School Studies. In 1895 the Committee of Fifteen, of which Superintendent Wm. H. Maxwell was chairman, then of Brooklyn but since chosen to be the first Superintendent of Schools of “Greater New York,” made a valuable report on elementary education, including reports of sub-committees on the Training of Teachers, Correlation of Studies, and the Organization of City School Systems. In 1897 came the report of the Committee of Twelve on Rural Schools, Superintendent Henry Sabin, of Iowa, as chairman. These documents have been epoch-making; they have accumulated a mass of trustworthy information; they have procured opinion upon a wide variety of topics, and their influence upon the general systematization of the school system has been enormous. Their additional value lies in the fact that they have been prepared by teachers who thoroughly understood the topics which were being considered, and they have furnished to educators generally that consensus of professional opinion which has been so badly needed in America.

In this work of gathering and disseminating information, a most potent part has been played by the national government. The limitations of the Constitution left education as a State interest, to be worked out by each commonwealth as it should think best. There had always been a general desire among teachers for some national organization, and at last, after the Civil War, Congress established a department, and then later made a Bureau of Education in the Department of the Interior. In 1867 Hon. Henry Barnard was appointed the first United States Commissioner of Education. A wiser choice could not have been made. Dr. Barnard’s career in education covers a period from 1830, when he was appointed Secretary of the Board of School Commissioners in Connecticut, down to the present. Beyond question, his greatest work has been the organization of the National Bureau of Education, which to-day is a grand educational clearing-house, sending forth in its excellent reports an account of ideas and work of each State to the others. Its high efficiency has been due, in a large measure, to the character of its commissioners: Henry Barnard, from 1867 to 1870; John Eaton, 1870–1886; Nathaniel H. R. Dawson, 1886–1889; William T. Harris, 1889 to date. The present incumbent has had the satisfaction of the knowledge that his position has been removed from the list of partisan appointments. By his tactful prudence and genuine scholarship, Dr. Harris has brought his office into touch with every good educational work for a decade, and has made his name a synonym for genial wisdom throughout the whole country.

The teacher has been aided in his work by his professional associations. It is, moreover, true that to-day the teacher enters upon his work better equipped for his duties. The normal-school system has spread over the whole country, and every year thousands of young men and women are sent forth with a preparation that fifty years ago was not even dreamed of. Since the teacher better deserves respect, he has commanded it the more readily. Gradually the barbarisms of the schoolroom have disappeared. As the sympathy with education increased, the necessity for excessive flogging passed away. To-day there is a wide variety in opinion as to the efficiency of this mode of discipline. In one State, New Jersey, corporal punishment in schools is forbidden by law; but in most of the others it is permitted in special cases, as a general part of the teacher’s power when in loco parentis. The teacher is now paid a regular salary, but unfortunately it is the lowest paid in any profession for which formal preparation is required. In 1896–97 the average monthly wages of teachers was, for males, $44.62, and for females, $38.38. In comparison with the standard of life throughout the country, this is poor pay. Superintendent N. C. Schaeffer, of Pennsylvania, in a recent annual report, states that “one superintendent found that there were teachers in his county teaching for four dollars less per year than it cost the county on an average to keep one pauper.” This is an exceptional case, but it illustrates the general truth.